The Young Explorer eBook

In a short time a fresh supply of trout was drawn
from the brook, and they were roughly cooked at the
fire, Bradley officiating as cook.

“Now, my friends, set up,” said he.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you any
potatoes, but the barrel’s out, and it’s
too late to get any at the store. Likewise, you
must excuse the puddin’, as it’s too late
to make any.”

The two visitors appeared to think no apologies were
needful, for they made short work with the trout.
From the manner in which they devoured their supper,
it was quite evident that it was some time since they
had eaten. Ben and Bradley did not join them,
having already eaten heartily.

“I hope you relished your supper, gentlemen,”
said Bradley politely.

“I should say we did,” responded Tom Hadley.

“I say, them trout beat the world.”

“I’ll shoot the man that says they don’t!”
said Bill Mosely, relapsing into his old tone.

“So will I!” exclaimed Bradley, springing
to his feet and brandishing his revolver.

Ben began to see that he was playing a part, and,
with assumed gravity, he looked to see what effect
it would have on their new friend.

“I guess you’re right,” said Bradley,
appearing to calm down. “Once I was swingin’
my gun kinder careless, and it went off and hit my
friend, Jim Saunders, in his shoulder. Might have
been worse. He had a narrer escape. But
Jim couldn’t complain. I jest took care
of him, night and day, till he got well. I couldn’t
do any more’n that, now, could I?”

“Seventy or eighty, I should say,” answered
Bradley carelessly. “Of course, a man can’t
keep an account of all these little affairs. I
did once think I’d keep a list, but I got tired
of it after a short time, and gave it up after I’d
got up to forty-seven.”